Chapter Sixty-Three. Melanie
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
MELANIE
Dad sweeps his flashlight along the threshold of the back door, shoulders taut, checking the lock, inspecting the slushy ground outside.
Emily led Olivia back toward the Amenity Center on Dad’s orders. She didn’t need to be in this house one minute longer than necessary. Don’t say anything yet. Not until we know more, Dad had told her, and Emily only nodded, face ashen and expression numb with shock.
On the coffee table, a plastic camo-painted trail cam sits. The side panel is unlatched, hanging half open. I work my jacket over my finger and open it fully.
I bend closer, my stomach crawling. The slot on the side of the camera is empty. I think of Cat’s words to Kennedy Claire yesterday morning: I have security footage.
“Dad,” I say hesitantly.
He turns from where he has moved on to check the windowsills, where the wooden dowels are still in place, the ones he cut and fitted himself weeks ago. To keep Cat safe. “Don’t touch anything, Mel,” he snaps.
“Sorry, yeah, I know. Cat said she had some videos from that party the kids threw at The Hollow. But I think the SD card is missing.”
His face tightens, and he joins me around the coffee table, leaning down over the trail cam. “Is that one of mine?”
“She must have gotten it from Mark,” I say.
He shines his flashlight down into the empty SD slot.
“Do you think someone took it?” I ask, hugging my arms around myself, nails biting crescents into my arms.
His head turns back toward where Cat’s body still lies on the kitchen floor. But I can’t bear to look again, to see her that way, the dusky blue of her hands, the dark, tacky stain of her blood.
“Could have,” Dad says slowly. “Could be that you found the motive, kid.”
We lock eyes, the storm rattling the windows around us. Anyone who would want that footage, anyone who would steal that card, is already back at the Amenity Center. Waiting for us.